


Day 9 - Shackled

by broken_fannibal



Series: Whumptober 2019 [6]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: (but really only a tiny tiny bit of comfort at the end so dont get your hopes up), Alec Hardy Whump, Angst, Blindfolds, Blood, Crying, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Rescue, Torture, Whipping, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 15:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_fannibal/pseuds/broken_fannibal
Summary: Alec is being helped captive and whipped. That's all this is.Just shameless whump.





	Day 9 - Shackled

Alec fought against the shackles as he heard the steps coming closer.

He couldn't do this. Not again.

The metal dug into his sore wrists. He gripped the chains and pulled at them. All in the vain hope that they would give way. But of course they didn't. They hadn't the last four times, so why should they now?

The steps stopped close to him. He couldn't see the man, blindfolded as he was. Only heard his voice. Behind him now. Circling him like a shark.

He cried out as pain exploded all over his back.

_ One. Two. Three. _

He whimpered and bit his lip. The pain faded a little. Shifting from sharp and biting to a duller burn.

_ Four. _

_ Five, six. _

The last two followed in quick succession. He curled in on himself, pressing his forehead against the cool floor.

Something lightly dragged over his back. Teasing the countless welts.

He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the next round.

_ One. Two. Three. _

He jolted and tore at the shackles. The chain digging into his palms as he clung to them.

_ Four. Five. Six. _

Alec tasted iron. Blood. His back felt like it was on fire. Tears prickled in his eyes and he didn't think he had the power to hold them back much longer.

A hand in his hair. Pulling his head up and twisting it around. Something wiped along the corner of his mouth.

“There's no need to keep it down, you know? There’s no one here to hear you.” He felt a warm breath against his ear. “Nobody but me.” the man whispered.

A chill ran down his spine at the words.

The grip in his hair eased and his head dropped.

The steps were behind him again. “Yesterday I thought that it might be a good idea to document this. To give me something to remember our time here,” he said in a casual tone.

Just as Alec wondered what he could mean by that he heard the sound of a camera clicking. He took a deep breath and gathered all his strength. His throat was much too sore to speak. So he raised one shaking hand to flip him off.

An amused laugh. “Getting brave now, are we?”

Blunt pressure on his lower back, twisting and pressing down on the wounds.

He clenched his jaw and groaned.

“Mm, that will do nicely.” A faint clunk. “Are you ready?”

Ready for wha-

_ One, two, three. _

He screamed in pain.

_ Four, five. _

His chest was heaving as he tried to breathe through it.

_ Six, seven, eight. _

It was in vain. Tears ran down his cheeks and he was helpless to stop them.

_ Nine. _

_ Ten. _

_ Eleven. _

His fists tightened around the chains.

The last three felt like the man had used twice the force he usually did.

He fought to regulate his breathing. To calm down. But with the raging pain all over his back, it was impossible.

Cold water hit his back. He gasped. And winced. It stung. His pants clung to his skin and he shivered. Despite the painful heat of his back he started shivering in the slight draft that always went through the room.

“Good night.” The man's voice was so cheerful, it made Alec sick.

The door closed and the locks clicked shut.

He couldn't keep the sobs in. He curled up and cried. He cried for what felt like hours. Until he had run out of tears and only dry, choked sobs escaped his sore throat.

He was awoken by the slam of the door. He scrambled to his knees, disoriented and confused. Until he registered the pain.

The man was saying something. But all of it was lost in the rush of blood in Alec’s ears.

The first thing he heard was the snap of the whip as the man swung it in the air.

He couldn't help but jump. All too aware of the constant pain in his back. All too aware of what would follow.

He curled up and braced himself for the hits.

It was still for a long while. Was the man toying with him? What was going on? What could it-

He screamed when the first hit came.

Pain exploded all over his back. The wounds of the days before seemed to rip open again as he doubled over.

He bit his lip to keep himself from whimpering, trying to prepare himself for the next hits.

But nothing happened.

Why was nothing happening? Panic began to simmer in his gut. Would he do something different? What would he do?

The pulsing of the wounds on his back picked up. The stuffy air made it hard to breathe. He could barely think a clear thought.

All that was left was the pain and the fear. What could the man possibly do next? What other ways had he found to hu- A gunshot echoed through the room. His ears rung and he waited for the pain. Waited to feel where he had been shot. But the pain didn't come.

His breathing sped up as he tried to figure out what was happening. He thought he heard something but he couldn't be sure. The ringing in his ears was too loud along with the rushing of blood.

He jumped when someone touched his wrists.

What was going on now? What was he doing? He fought and tried to get away. A whimper caught in his throat as he shackles rubbed against his sore wrists.

But then they were opened. They were gone. His wrists were free.

Before he could even try to get away, shaking hands touched his head, pulling at the blindfold. He blinked at the sudden brightness. Nervousness settled in his gut. He needed to know who freed him. But it took so long until his eyes got used to the sheer amount of light. He squinted and fought the headache raging on in his skull. His vision was still blurry but he forced his eyes to stay open.

It looked like... Miller? Yes! It was her! They had finally found him!

He breathed a sigh of relief- and promptly started coughing. He doubled over and winced at the strain the motion put on his back. Sharp pain exploded all over it and tears ran down his cheeks but he couldn't stop coughing. His throat was too dry. He tried to swallow but there was no moisture left. He tried to hold his breath but it was no use.

Something was pressed against his lips. He choked and sputtered as water ran down his throat.

Eventually, as his breathing calmed, the coughing subsided. The cup was held to his lips again. He slowly drank.

And that was the last thing he remembered. He must have blacked out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider leaving kudos/comments! <3
> 
> I'm planning to continue this for day 18 (the prompt is muffled scream) and there will be more caretaking there.


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